Hellsing's Houseguest
by Jubalii
Summary: There's a new houseguest at Hellsing manor: he's not there by his own choice, but nevertheless. Alucard's not happy, and Seras is caught up in the middle of a mental warzone that's been going along since the last century. In any case, it doesn't make for peaceful nights!
1. Chapter 1

"Do you time yourself?"

Seras stared up at her elderly employer, who was making her way slowly down the stairs. Sir Integra was well into her 70s, and now had resorted to taking the stairs one at a time as she painstakingly made her way to the lower levels. Going up stairs wasn't as hard, but Seras always cringed inside when she watched the woman heading down; she couldn't help it, remembering the time when Sir Integra wasn't much older than her, and had a much easier time.

"I know bloody well when it takes me longer to get down the damn stairs," the elderly woman puffed, holding onto the banister as she came down, bones creaking. "We can't all be young and fit," she grumbled, eyeing Seras enviously. Although Sir Integra had resolved as a young woman to never become a vampire, Seras knew it must have been hard to grow old and feeble while constantly watching her stay young and vibrant as the years flew by. "I don't need a damn timer."

"Don't be like that," Seras admonished, leaning on the bottom railing as Sir Integra finally reached the bottom. "I was just making a joke." It could have been worse; if Sir Integra thought she was too cheeky, the old woman didn't think twice about smacking her upside the head (although she never hit her as hard as she did Alucard).

"I know, I know," Sir Integra sighed, holding onto the railing while she caught her breath. "I'm just concerned about the boys." Seras sighed. The "boys" were the newer members of the Round Table Conference, the oldest of which had celebrated his 25th birthday earlier that month. They were out practicing their combat skills in the field. Despite being accompanied by veteran soldiers, among them their fathers, Sir Integra still was uneasy about them facing off against supernatural forces at such a young age.

It didn't do any good to remind her that she fought off Nazi invaders at their age, either. She fretted over them like a mother hen over a brood of chicks; however, none of them knew it. She only showed her concern whenever she was alone with Seras. She was pretty sure that if the secret got out that the hardened Sir Integra truly cared about the young men, the old Knight would be mortified. The younger Knights might not even believe it; Sir Integra was harder on them than their own families were.

"Sir, I wouldn't worry," Seras said comfortingly, patting the older woman's shoulder. "They're surrounded by the best of the best, and no vampire's going to get within a few yards of them before being shot down." Sir Integra sighed.

"I know that. But I can't help but worry. They're so _soft_," she said, shaking her head. "They've been coddled all their lives, and their fathers know it."

"This will open their eyes, then," Seras replied. "It'll do them good." Sir Integra smiled.

"Well, they'll need this before I set them up against you and Alucard. The pair of you will be their final test, I believe. They have to be prepared to fight anyone, even people they've known personally." She stared ahead with a firm expression. "The Valentine Incident taught us that, didn't it?"

"That seems like such a short time ago." Seras frowned. "But it's been… decades." Sir Integra nodded.

"Decades…" she murmured, rubbing her temple. "It makes me feel tired. I wonder if all old people feel this way."

"You're not old," Seras protested. Sir Integra glared at her and she backed a step away. "I mean it! Elderly and old are two different things! You can be elderly, but young at heart!" She thumped her own chest for emphasis.

Sir Integra was going to reply, but the front doors flew open with a bang and startled both women. Jumping behind Sir Integra, Seras shrieked like a banshee while the elder woman whipped her pistol out of her suit and brandished it threateningly.

"Hellsing!" A voice boomed threateningly. Seras ducked lower behind Sir Integra, but her shadows curled protectively around the woman's legs. Staring through the gap between her pistol-wielding arm and her waist, and saw a large shadow in the doorway. Stepping into the light, the shadow turned into a sopping wet man with an angry snarl. "We need to have words!"

He looked to be in his forties, fifty at the most. He was wearing a white cotton shirt with suspenders and khaki pants, with brown shoes that at one point may have been shined. However, his shirt was clinging to his skin and his pants were sagging, barely held up by the suspenders. His hair was a dark, undefinable colour and hung in his eyes, dripping and sodden. His thick, wire-frame glasses were sliding down his wet nose, and he was forced to keep pushing them back up before they fell off completely.

"We do?" Sir Integra said, staring in confusion. "I'm sorry—have we met?"

"I knew your father," the man replied, lifting his head to stare at her straight on. "And your grandfather," he continued, eyeing her with solemn gray eyes. "I—" He paused with a strange look, and then thrust his hands into his pants. Sir Integra's eyes bugged and he pulled a thick vine out of his pants. The vine had a mind of its own, wriggling like a beheaded snaked and trying to impale its vines into the man's wrist.

"I have a complaint to list," he said, throwing the vine back out into the night with an expertise flick of the wrist. "Your _men_ have stormed my home, trampled my garden, shot my windows to shards, and let loose a centuries-old hollyhock that has decided to run rampant _and now_ my entire home is filled to the brim with vines and pollen! I demand recompense!" he finished with a snarl, pushing his hair out of his eyes and stomping one shoe on the ground. His sock squelched in the shoe and he glanced down at it in disgust.

"How did it get into your house?" Sir Integra asked, looking completely baffled. The man smiled scathingly.

"Well, ask your children and their depleted uranium weapons! It mixed with my fertilizer and turned my greenhouse into something from Little Shop of Horrors." Sir Integra shook her head again.

"Just calm down a moment. Let me get you a towel and some clean things, and then we can talk," she said, taking control as she moved forward to push him gently in the direction of the showers. The man's frown lessened and he stepped aside, but followed her down the hall, his shoes squeaking on the tile. "Seras, call Harry to clean all this up," she called over her shoulder.

"Ah, right, sir!" Seras answered, looking around at the puddles on the floor before running off to find the head butler.

* * *

><p>After helping Harry to clean up the mess, Seras crept down to the first-floor drawing room, where she felt Sir Integra's presence. She hadn't noticed in the excitement, but the man's personal energy felt strange, supernatural. She realized that he wasn't a human at all, which didn't surprise her. After years of being a vampire, not much surprised her anymore. She'd seen enough of the world to know that humans were a minority where mortals and immortals were concerned.<p>

The man sounded much calmer, and she peeked around the doorframe to see him sitting in a spare dressing gown with a thick towel around his shoulders. He had a glass of tea sitting by his chair, but he paid little attention to it as he scooted closer to the blazing fire. Sir Integra seemed calmer as well, sipping her tea and nodding enthusiastically to the man's words.

"…and it will take three weeks at least for the house to set itself in order. I plan on using as little of my own power to help as possible—I don't want to face another adverse reaction. Humans and their elements seem to respond negatively to them, I see now."

"I understand completely, sir." Sir Integra said, taking another drink and picking up a flat biscuit. "You can be assured that I and my Organization will offer you every commodity that's within our power. We do try to keep these sorts of accidents to the bare minimum, but I'm sure you can understand that where training is concerned…."

"Of course, of course," the man replied, shaking his head and waving his hands dismissively. "I do understand; young blokes getting trigger happy, is all it was. But this is a wonderful learning opportunity for them."

"I agree, I—Seras!" Sir Integra saw the blonde head peering around the door and waved her in. "Come meet our new houseguest. He's going to be staying here while we try to fix the damage done to his home." Seras self-consciously tugged the short skirt and tight shirt that made up her uniform and stepped into the room, glancing curiously at the man.

Now that he was dry, his hair was a light brown and looked fluffy, drifting around his face although it was mostly combed back. He adjusted his glasses on his nose again as he looked her over before smiling. The bright expression pulled at laugh lines around his mouth and made the lightest silver highlights in his eyes glimmer.

"Hello," he purred genteelly, standing and giving her a small bow. He stared at her scrutinizingly, his eyes narrowed slightly as he took in her appearance. "It's been a good many years since I've seen a vampiress. I seem to have forgotten how strikingly beautiful they are." Seras blushed deeply and his smile widened even further, if it were even possible.

"I'm not beautiful," she murmured, feeling her cheeks burn. His eyebrows rose and he tilted his head, looking like an inquisitive puppy.

"No?" he said, looking puzzled. "Well, I think you're very beautiful. Uncommonly so, in fact. I would wager a guess that you are a Lady, or someone of gentry."

"She's just a Police Girl," Sir Integra teased, looking entertained at the sight of the flattered and bewildered woman.

"Ah," the man said, looking as though that cleared up a good many things. Seras smiled uncomfortably, not sure what was happening. Had she stepped through to the Twilight Zone or something? "If I may?" he asked, holding out his hand. She took his hand with the intention of shaking it, but he grabbed it and leaned down to kiss it like she was a princess. The shadows on the room darkened and Seras looked up in the dim light with a soft gasp.

"Oh, Alucard?" she said softly, looking around. The man paused, his lips inches from glove.

"Ah," he whispered, lifting up slightly and looking around expectantly. "And so it begins."

"Huh?" Seras responded. She was going to ask what he meant by that, but her words were cut off in a choke as her legs slid out from under her, her body forcefully pulled back against a hard surface. The room spun for a moment and she blinked hard, feeling arms encircle her chest and tug her farther into the shadows.

"Hello again, old chum." The man smiled, but it seemed a little forced. Sir Integra sat up in her chair, watching the scene cautiously.

"Don't. Touch. Her." The wall behind Seras rumbled and she realized she was pushed back against Alucard's chest, his arm crushing her throat as he held her against him. "What are you doing here?" He sounded furious. The man looked back at Sir Integra, who stood.

"Alucard," she greeted him curtly. "Per orders, _he's_ going to be staying at Hellsing manor until we fix his house," she explained in an authoritative tone. Seras couldn't see Alucard's face, but she was close enough against his chest to hear the almost inaudible growl.

"Don't come near her again," Alucard warned, taking no note of his master's words. Seras made a sound of protest and he squeezed her warningly. Even if he technically had no power over her anymore since she'd became a full vampiress, he still expected her obedience. "Ever."

"I think that depends on her feelings, don't you?" The man said quietly, hands in his pockets. "She should make decisions for herself." The growl forced its way up his throat and he let go of her to grab a table beside the door. A vase with chrysanthemums crashed to the floor, water soaking into the oriental carpet. He raised the table over his head and the man's eyes widened.

"My God, man," he swore, before the surprise was overtaken by a stern, angry expression. "What _are _you doing to the furniture?! That table wasn't meant to be used in such a fashion!" His next sentence was cut off in a yelp as he ducked behind his armchair, the table shattering against the wall in the space where his head had been a moment before.

"Alucard!" Seras and Integra exclaimed in synch, and the man popped back up over his chair, a vexed expression on his face.

"How rude! That was not _your _table to smash." He wagged his finger as he said it, as though scolding a small child who had destroyed another's toy. Alucard snarled and raised his glowing gloved fist when Integra smacked her own fist into the arm of her chair.

"Alucard!" She repeated in a harsh tone, "Clean that up this instant." Her visible eye narrowed dangerously behind her glasses and her face tightened with anger; for a moment she looked just like she did before the London Blitz, full of piss and vinegar and with a temper to match.

"Don't bother yourself, m'dear," the man said, walking around the armchair without a thought to the fact that he was now once again in the line of fire. "I'll get it." He picked up the pieces of the table and walked back over to the wall, setting the legs on the ground followed by the broken pieces of the surface. He then thumped it with his thumb and forefinger, moving away.

Seras gaped as she saw the table had been fully fixed, as if it had never been thrown at all. The man took the edge of the oriental carpet and snapped it. Water and shards of china flew in the air faster than even Seras' vampiric vision could follow, but when they came back down he caught an entire vase. He put the chrysanthemums back in the vase and sat it neatly on the table before nodding in satisfaction, the whole thing taking less than thirty seconds.

"Cor…" Seras breathed. "He's like a magician." The arm tightened like steel band around her throat and she choked, her elbow digging into his stomach. He growled warningly at her and she hissed, pulling her arm back to ram her elbow harder into his gut. "_Gerroff_!" He refused, and pulled her arm up painfully behind her back until she winced.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the man striding over to Integra's chair and lean down and she heard his whispered words clearly; "Should I … help?" He glanced at them and Seras gave a strained smile as she arched up onto tip toe and tried to free herself from the iron hold, her throat compressing painfully against the choke hold. She sighed and sagged against him after a moment; if there hadn't been guests, she would have already swung up her legs to offset his balance to send them both into the wall. As it was, she pulled all of her weight towards the floor, trying to free her skull from his impromptu headlock.

Integra looked at them blandly, and raised her teacup to take a leisurely sip. "No, it's normal." She turned back to the man and eyed him speculatively, "Would you like a tour of the manor or to retire to your room?" It was as if the two vampires didn't exist, and Seras flicked her gaze between the elderly human and the whatever-he-was turned house guest.

"Oh, I think I better retire for the night," the man said, rubbing his fluffed hair. "I've grown accustomed to silence, and all this commotion is putting me on edge. I need to recoup, as the soldiers used to say," he laughed.

"Very well," Integra conceded with a slight nod. "Seras, go and take our new guest to a room; I think one of the third floor suits will suit him nicely. Alucard," she growled when the vampire made a move to cut Seras off, his arms still encircling her body, "You stay. It seems that you and I need to have a conversation about the coming weeks, and your _behavior_." He hesitated. "Drop the girl; that's an order!" she barked suddenly. The gloves glowed and Seras felt the heat of the runes against her skin like a flame. She gasped in pain and he dropped her immediately, allowing her to rub the welt forming on the back of her neck.

The man stepped forward, blatantly ignoring Alucard and the vampire moved towards his master, blatantly ignoring the man in return. Seras looked between the two of them before clearing her throat.

"A-alright, third floor! Follow me," she said with forced chipperness, her cool fingers still prodding the welt. The man obediently fell into step behind her and they left the room, shutting the door behind them. Seras led him silently to the stairs, her face coloring as she considered the awkwardness of the situation. She was slightly embarrassed that this stranger had to see Alucard behaving like that, and her having to try and fight him off.

"I'm sorry that you had to see—"

"Don't bother yourself with it, love," the man cut her off, and she twisted her head to see him waving her apologies away. "I've known that blasted vampire for decades now; nothing he does surprises me much anymore."

"So you and Alucard have a history?" she responded, her curiosity getting the better of her. The man nodded, chuckling.

"Oh, yes!" he exclaimed. "A long and violent one, I'm afraid. He loathes me, very much. I daresay he might even "hate my guts", as the colloquialism goes." Seras eyed the man, trying to decide what he could have done to make her former master so angry. Alucard usually didn't care enough about anyone to hate them, or even loathe them for that matter. He either didn't mind your existence or he did, the latter of which didn't live very long after the ancient vampire made his choice.

"What did you do to him?" she finally asked, unable to imagine what the man might have done. The man smiled ruefully and sighed, rolling his shoulders.

"It's a very complicated tale; much too complicated for tonight. If you want to know, I'll tell you tomorrow. To make a long story short, I ruined his life." Seras felt her eyes bug at his words, and even stopped to turn and face him fully. She stared up into his gray eyes, her own searching for any falsehood in his features. He let her look as long as she liked, his sad smile still on his lips.

"You?" she blurted after a long, silent moment. "I can't imagine you doing anything to him that would manage to ruin his life. After all, he's pretty much a servant to humans now and he doesn't let _that _get to him." The man laughed again, but it was a remorseful sound.

"You're young yet, m'dear. But I'll tell you the story, tomorrow. Be warned, though;" he said, his gaze serious, "I don't sugarcoat my tales. You'll hear the truth, like it or not."

"Good," she replied briskly. "I hate people who beat around the bush. I'd rather hear it plain and simple." They smiled at each other, and without a word moved on towards the room. Seras took him to a suite at the end of the hall, opening the door and showing him in.

All the third floor suites at Hellsing were the same, made for functionality and practicality. There was a king-size bed with plain white sheets, two wooden bedside tables, and a wooden trunk at the foot. A large wooden bureau that matched the tables was pushed against the wall. There was a window seat with plain cushions, and an adjoining bathroom with a walk-in shower. Another room off to the right was a study, complete with a wooden desk and chair.

"I hope you'll be okay in here," Seras said politely, letting the man step into the room and look around. "I don't know where your luggage is, or I'd have it brought up for you."

"Oh, that's quite alright," the man replied absently, gazing around with a thoughtful expression. "I don't have any luggage." Seras was about to question him, but he answered her himself. "I find that—" he opened the bureau, saw it empty, and then closed it. He opened it again and there was an entire wardrobe hung neatly on the metal bar inside, socks and shoes laid on the wooden surface.

"I find that it's easier to just add things as I go, rather than make an effort to pack," he finished his sentence, closing the doors again. He walked to the nearest bedside table and she _knew _that it was empty, but he opened the drawer and began to pull all manner of things out: a book, a stack of papers, spare glasses, a paperweight in the shape of an eagle.

"D-do you," Seras replied, wonderstruck as he continued to move about the room, pulling things out of drawers and setting up his space. It was the same feeling she had when she was young, and had first watched Mary Poppins pull the coatrack out of her carpetbag. It was a childish, magical feeling that had her grinning.

"Naturally. I never get the feeling that I've forgotten something." He looked over his work, which was now cluttering every available surface in a surprisingly neat manner, and then smiled at her. "Well, I think I'll turn in," he said, staring at her until she realized he was politely telling her to go away. She jerked, still lost in thought about his "magic" powers.

"Oh, yes!" she shook her head, rubbing her hair. She didn't usually daydream, and wondered if it might be a side effect being around his kind, whatever he was. "I'll leave you to it, then, Mr.…." She paused; after all that had happened, she'd never managed to catch his name. "I'm sorry, I don't think you've actually been introduced to me."

"Renfield," he said promptly, grabbing her hand and giving it a good shake. "R.M. Renfield, but most find it easier to leave the initials off and just go by my surname." Seras felt her jaw drop; her mind was working in overtime.

"Ren—wait," she said slowly, trying to catch up to her out of control thoughts. "_That _Renfield?" She had never felt any sort of denial for who Alucard was. She had put two and two together easily enough during the Blitz, and after all was said and done she'd read everything about Dracula she could get her hands on, including the titular novel (which, Sir Integra had explained, was far more romanticized than the real life situation had ever been).

"I dunno," he said, still clasping her hand lightly. He was warm, but not hot like a human. She wondered briefly if his skin was really as cold as hers. "Do you know another Renfield? I was always led to believe I was the only one."

"No, I just…" Seras faltered, unsure of how to explain it. When she'd read the book, the character of Renfield had seemed so...well, in any case, this had not been what she'd thought of. This Renfield was witty and perhaps a little eccentric, but not—"You're not a looney?" she said quickly, before thinking that it might be offensive to say something like that to someone you've just met.

"Posh," the man said, shaking his head. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm utterly mad, mental, deranged, and psychologically inept," he assured her. "But then again, aren't we all?"

"I'm not," Seras replied indignantly. Renfield grinned slyly.

"But you admit to the existence of vampires, werewolves, dæmons, magic, and all occult forces of the supernatural?" Seras paused, eyeing him askance for a long moment.

"Of course," she finally said with a nod. "I _am_ a vampire. Of course they exist."

"Well then, according to worldly standards you are a verifiable lunatic, my dear." He tilted his head with a strange expression, and for a moment he _did _look insane. Seras felt a shiver work its way up her spine and suddenly wished that Alucard was there to drag her away. But as quick as the moment had come, it had passed and she was left wondering what it was she had been frightened of, for he seemed as harmless as before.

"Oh." Seras had nothing else to say to his logic. "Oh."

"Good-night, Seras Victoria." He pushed her gently out the door and closed it with an audible click. She stood in the hall, wracking her brains and trying to remember if she'd told him her full name. She got creeped out before deciding that Sir Integra must have told him her surname. Still, she had the strange feeling that Renfield had been able to see more about her than she had about him.

She wasn't sure if she liked that.

* * *

><p>"Don't be angry." Seras was standing in Alucard's chambers, where it looked like a hurricane had swept through. Things were thrown everywhere, but Seras herself remained untouched. "I was just doing what I was told. And besides, it's my business who I speak to, and I can take care of myself."<p>

"I never said you couldn't." Alucard had finished his rage-fueled rampage, and now was in his chair staring at the wine bottle dejectedly. Whatever Sir Integra had told him had worked—he hadn't gone after Renfield, but he hadn't spoken a word about him either until Seras had brought it up.

"It's implied," she countered, walking over and pouring him some wine in a glass. "Here, cheer up a little. You don't have to look at him, you know." She handed him the glass and he took it, frowning at it before taking a sip and placing it back on the table.

"I don't want him near you," Alucard declared. "Everything he gets his hands on becomes ruined." Seras groaned.

"We talked about sexual innuendos, didn't we?" she said sarcastically, wrinkling her nose. "Besides, he seems like a gentleman. More of a gentleman than you, anyway," she teased softly. "He told me outright that he ruined your life, and he even offered to tell me the story tomorrow night." She let the words hang in the air, hoping he would make an offer to tell her his side of the story. But, as always, he seemed dead-set against telling her anything about himself.

"Don't believe everything he says," was all Alucard replied.

"I'll believe what I want." She paused, and then stepped closer, her hand on his shoulder. "It won't change my opinion of you, no matter what I hear. I've already made my impression, and that's going to stay the same."

"What is your opinion of me?" Alucard asked, and even though he tried to hide it Seras could hear the curiosity in his tone. She smiled and winked at him, but didn't answer.

"It's late. I'm going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow." She had the fleeting urge to bend down and kiss his forehead, but squashed it and turned to leave with a smile. He didn't need to know how she felt about him. He'd laugh at her, or even worse—get angry. And she couldn't help her innermost desires.

"Good day, Seras Victoria," he said quietly, and she turned at the door, watching him pick the wineglass up gingerly and take a long drink. She suppressed a sigh and walked slowly up the hall to her chambers. As excited as she was to know the full story, she wished she could hear it from him.

It made her wonder if he might be ashamed to tell it.

* * *

><p><strong>Afterword:<strong> Renny's back. With a vengeance. :P


	2. Chapter 2

When Seras awoke the next evening, she could hardly wait to get upstairs. She hoped that their new houseguest was a night owl! After hurriedly showering and dressing, she scarfed down her nightly allowance of blood with the excitement of a child told to eat her dinner before she could open Christmas presents. Then, she nearly hopped up the stairs to Sir Integra's office.

She hoped the elderly woman didn't have a mission for her tonight. It had been relatively quiet ever since the London Blitz, but there were still a few vampires out there that stirred up trouble now and again. The woman had smirked at Seras, who was bouncing on her heels as she asked first if there was a mission, and then if Mr. Renfield had not gone to bed yet.

"No, he hasn't." Sir Integra lit a cigar and softly breathed the smoke, which curled lazily into the air. "He's given me the impression that for him, sleeping isn't a necessity. You can ask yourself, though."

"Yes, Sir," Seras said politely. "Do you know where he might be found?" The elderly woman shook her head.

"I have no earthly idea. But when I gave him a tour of the grounds, he seemed particularly interested in the gardens out back. Perhaps you might find him there; apparently gardening is a hobby of his." Seras turned on her boot, ready to head out the door, but Sir Integra called her back.

"Seras," she began seriously, bidding the vampiress to come a bit closer. "Alucard is not happy that this man is a guest in our home." Seras shrugged, but didn't deny the fact. "Do you know _why _he has to stay here? Wouldn't it be easier to put him up in a hotel until his house is fixed?"

"Because…"Seras paused, and then shook her head. "Because it's our fault his house is overgrown?" she answered uncertainly.

"No, that's not it." Seras frowned and gave another small roll of her shoulders. She had no idea. "It's the law, that's why."

"The law?" Sir Integra nodded grimly.

"When a supernatural creature is… well, the closest thing to it is "registered"; they have to register with us that they own a home in the country. It's to keep up with the threat, really. If they move houses, or _especially _if they move to a different country, they have to provide documentation for it."

"Documentation? Like a change-of-address form or something?"

"That's right." She leaned back in her chair, staring thoughtfully at the trail of smoke. "And Renfield followed the proper protocol—even if it hadn't been us that ruined his house, he'd still have to come here and make his case. He's not opting to move; he just wants his home fixed and cleaned up. So he has to stay here, to cut back on paperwork. Should he have been an actual threat to humans, this would have served another purpose as well, since we can keep a better eye on him inside our walls."

"He's not a threat to humans, but I think he could be if he wanted to." Seras was subtle, but Sir Integra caught her question nonetheless and smiled.

"Yes, he's got the potential to be a true danger, but I think he's like most other supernatural beings—they just want to get along as best they can without being interfered with. Meddling with humans would cause unneeded strife." She licked her lips and tapped ash into the silver tray on her desk. "But that's not why I brought this up."

"You mentioned Alucard, Sir." Sir Integra sighed.

"Precisely. That damned…" she trailed off, lost in her own thoughts. She did it often, and the best thing to do was to wait patiently until she gathered her mind and finished her speech. Seras did so, even though she really wanted to run out and find their guest to wring the story of how he ruined Alucard's life out of him.

"He's not going to be a problem. Last night, we had a long talk. But he was adamant that you shouldn't be allowed around Renfield."

"Yes, Sir. He told me that too, but when I left his chamber last night he knew that I was going with him today."

"Seras—"

"It's alright, Sir." Seras smiled brightly at her. She knew that Sir Integra was concerned, and thought she had every right to be. But she was just a human—she had no way of understanding how their relationship was. Seras knew that Alucard let her do things that he wouldn't allow from a human person, or even another vampire person. "I can handle Alucard. Don't worry."

"Don't misunderstand me," Sir Integra responded, waving her cigar. "I know very well that you can handle Alucard. And I'm sure that he wouldn't put you in any danger that he couldn't get you out of just as easily. I just don't want the _perceived_ threats to cause any accidents." Something dawned on Seras and she nodded slowly, starting to understand the heiress' train of thought.

"So you want me to…."

"I've already told him, but I think that if you were to explain to Renfield that Alucard won't put you in a compromising situation, he might believe you more. I'd hate to cause a problem because Renfield thought you needed protection. There's something about coming between Alucard and what he wants that's…." She didn't need to finish her sentence. Seras placed her hand on the older woman's shoulder and patted comfortingly.

"It won't happen. Not on my watch," she said with conviction.

"Thank you," she replied softy. "Now go. And Seras; he's told me that you wanted to know the full story behind things." Seras nodded silently. "Promise me that you'll let it all sink in before you try and go talk to Alucard about it. He may not let you say your opinion."

"I know. I don't think he _wants_ me to know, honestly."

"He doesn't," Sir Integra mused. "But he knows you won't rest until you hear it, one way or another." Seras looked down at her questioningly and she smiled slyly. "You know, I'm still bonded with him, even if you aren't. Every once in a while I like to take a peek in his mind, to see what's going on." Her grin widened significantly. "He thinks about you a good bit of the time."

"Don't read into things," Seras snapped, her cheeks coloring. "He probably just thinks about how absentminded I am, and how much I mess up."

"Sometimes," Sir Integra conceded with a chuckle. "And sometimes not," she added vaguely. Seras scowled and she laughed again, covering her mouth with her free hand. Her one visible eye sparkled with mischief.

"Don't tease me!" Seras scrubbed her cheeks with her palms, trying to rub the heat and color out of them. "He's not—he doesn't…I'm going to check on Mr. Renfield!" she finally called over her shoulder, dissolving into shadows to get out of the room. The elderly Knight kept laughing until it turned into a fit of coughing that had her doubled over the desk for a long moment.

When she caught her breath, she rose and extinguished the cigar in the ashtray, moving her patch to wipe the tears from her eyes.

"She's so fun to tease. I know now why _he_ does it in the first place."

* * *

><p>He was out in the garden; at least, he had to be. She didn't see him, but there was such a drastic change to the landscape that she would have been highly surprised if it <em>hadn't <em>been his handiwork.

The gardens were sparse; at one time, they had held essential vegetables for the war effort. But after World War II, the carrots and cabbages had been replaced with bushes and flowers, and then left to grow on their own. It had become an overgrown dumping ground for seeds and unused saplings and had become a jungle of sorts.

But everything looked more in order now; Seras stepped through the wire gate into the garden part, looking interestedly at the neatly pruned saplings and the organized walk paths. The trimmings lay in neat piles at intervals along the wire fence separating the garden from the rest of the manor grounds. The few trees that were rooted and taller than her had had their bottom limbs trimmed, and the roots were covered in mulch and fresh soil.

"Wow," she breathed, turning a slow circle. "This is miraculous."

"Miracles have nothing to do with it, my dear." His voice startled her and she jumped with a small yelp, spinning around to find the source of the noise. His head popped up from behind a hedgerow and he smiled cordially at her, brandishing a pair of shearing scissors. "It just takes a little hard work and planning. Give me two days and I'll have this garden right as rain."

"Why bother?" Seras asked before she could think. Seeing his eyebrows rise in question, her cheeks turned pink and she fumbled to explain herself. "What I mean is, no one comes out here to see the garden. We don't use it anymore, so why fix it up?"

"You might not use it, but others do." He motioned her over. "You talk of miracles—come and see." She hesitated, but gingerly picked her way around the piles of moldering leaves and snipped vines. She made it around the hedgerow and he made her kneel beside him on the ground, a finger to his lips to warn her that she should be quiet. She felt the damp, loamy soil through her stockings and wondered briefly if they would stain before he caught her attention again.

He drew back the hedge, pointing to something beneath the long, tangled limbs. Seras obediently ducked lower and saw what he had been speaking about. It was a rabbit's nest, nestled in a hole in the earth, and covered by the shelter of the hedgerow. Three small rabbits lay inside, their eyes shut tight and their noses twitching. Seras didn't dare breathe as she gazed in awe at the creatures; each bunny could have easily fit into the palm of her hand.

"I won't trim the hedge or rake the leaves around here," he said, leaning over to whisper directly into her ear, his chin on her shoulder. "I'd hate to disturb them." He gently lowered the hedge back into place and stood, somehow managing to keep completely silent. She stood as well and he took her arm, leading her over to a bench that Seras had never seen before. She realized why—it was surrounded on all sides with large, leafy bushes. Most likely, it had been overgrown long before she ever came to Hellsing.

"Humans may not frequent this place, but I've seen animals and nests everywhere here. And when I clean it up, more will come to this place." He seemed distant, watching the plants move in the breeze. "Those small rabbits—each one's DNA is different than the other rabbits, and there will never be another rabbit in all of Christendom that has the same DNA as those rabbits. Each atom, every molecule, will never be the same, not in all the billions and billions of rabbits that pass through this Earth. _That _is miraculous. The wonders of the workings of the universe….after all this time, I still can't fathom it all."

"I can't either, sir." Seras' head felt light; it was deep, what he'd said. "And the strangest part is that the rabbits will never know." This made the man laugh so hard he nearly slid off the other end of the bench. He wiped his eyes under his glasses once he'd managed to calm down, his shoulders still shaking with mirth.

"My dear, you've said something so profound!" he hooted. "Forgive me," he chuckled when she glared at him, puzzled. "I've just never heard it put that way before. All the things in the universe work for a reason, but the rabbits will never know how or why. That amazes me. It's a good metaphor."

"I wasn't being metaphorical," Seras informed him curtly. "Mr. Renfield, if I can just get to the point—"

"No "Mr."," he interrupted. "I'd rather you just say "Renfield", if you please." Seras nodded with a suppressed sigh.

"Alright then. Renfield, last night you promised to tell me about your past, concerning Alucard." The man blinked at her in surprise.

"I did no such thing!" he protested. "I've never promised you anything." Seras bit back a retort, trying to remember that this man was known to be off his rocker and she was supposed to be polite with guests in the house.

"Maybe you didn't say "I promise", but _did _tell me that you'd tell me about your past tonight." The man screwed up his nose and shook his head, crossing his arms.

"My good madam, I told you that I would tell you why Alucard swears that I ruined his life, and nothing more." Seras gawked for a moment at him, trying to determine if he was joking with her. However, he seemed entirely serious.

"B-b-but," she sputtered, trying to find the right words. "Fine," she finally agreed, slumping down on the bench. "All you men are just alike," she grumbled.

"Don't be cross, dear," Renfield said gently, patting her arm. "It's just that altogether it's a little too tragic for you." Seras laughed scornfully.

"I've had my share of tragedy too," she informed him bitterly. "Nothing you say could possibly _ruin_ me," she added, remembering Alucard's words from last night. She felt Renfield's eyes on her, but didn't look over at him. She had a feeling he was trying to weigh her words against something only he knew, and she didn't want to see the look on his face. She couldn't stand to see any pity there; she'd been pitied enough over the years.

"Look at me." She looked over without meaning to, compelled by the kind tone in his voice. He scooted closer to her on the bench, reaching out for her face. She shied back, unsure of his intentions, but his arms were longer than the space between them when she reached the edge of her seat. His hands encircled her face, palms resting on her jaws and fingers splayed towards her ears. He leaned in and she froze, bewildered.

He looked like he was staring at her neck but his eyes were moving, almost as if he was watching a movie playing out on her skin. She sat there, the warmth from his hands seeping into her cheeks, and time passed at a crawl. She looked around, hoping to anyone that would listen that Alucard didn't see them like this; how would she explain it? She had no idea what was going on! Minutes passed and then he just as quickly removed his hands from her, her face growing cold with the sudden lack of touch.

"I see," he replied sadly, moving back to give her some space on the bench, his hands folding in his lap. "That is indeed tragic," he murmured, tilting his head and seemingly absorbing whatever he'd just seen. Seras licked her lips and they sat silently, listening to the chirping crickets in the grass all around them.

"Alright," he chirped himself, seeming to come to some internal conclusion. "I'll give you the abridged version then, shall I?" He turned to her and she saw he had a book in his lap, underneath his hands. She knew he hadn't had it a moment before, but after seeing him "unpack" last night, she was beginning to understand that conventional laws of physics didn't seem to apply to him.

"This," he said, holding up the book, and she saw that it was Dracula. "Utter rubbish. History's always written by the victors—isn't that what humans say?" he asked more to himself, thumbing through the manuscript with a melancholy air.

"But you _were _there." He looked up at her.

"…For parts of it," he confessed. She tilted her head and looked at him through her bangs, her eyes flitting from his to the books title, and the picture on the front. It was the quintessential vampire picture, with a busty blonde screaming as a dark shadow in a cape loomed over her, a bat outside the window. The blonde's blue eyes were horrified, and Seras saw how much detail went into the expression of terror on her face. But the shadow was just a shadow—something to be feared, but not fearful itself. Why did they never draw the vampire full-on, with as much detail as they did the woman?

"And you betrayed him in the end, to help the humans," she added quietly. He shook his head, and hair fluttered down from his neat hairstyle and sat on his forehead, above his glasses. A look of pain crossed his face.

"No! No," he whispered vehemently, and Seras was astonished at the misery suddenly etched on his features. "I never meant to—I…." He paused a long moment, staring at nothing in particular. Seras recognized the look; Alucard got it often. The man was remembering. "Not to help the humans. I never meant for it to go so far. I didn't know what it was that he wanted—" He stopped again, his fingers clutching at the book's spine as though it were his only hope. "They wrote me as a coward, a sniveling, cowardly insect-eater. I suppose I deserve it. I _was _cowardly. But I never meant for him to be hurt. _Never_."

"I don't understand." Seras watched him, trying to discern his thoughts. He sighed, the sound heavy with emotion.

"I think he hates me sometimes because I feel remorse for what happened. He hates pity, you know; he abhors it, he never knew how to feel it and probably never will. But I feel such guilt, and I have such regrets…" she looked up at him and was amazed at the lone tear streaking down his cheek. He let it fall and she thought that he looked angelic in that one moment, the tear shining in the moonlight. But he wiped it away when it reached his chin, and the moment was lost as he cleared his throat and looked at the book.

"Time, my dear, is of the essence. I can wallow in my sorrow all day, but you have only a few scant hours before dawn breaks and you must retreat to your little wooden box." He sounded self-conscious, but Seras waited silently and he continued. "Before I can tell you the how, I must tell you the _why_. And to know the why, you must know a little about who, or rather _what_, I am."

"Imagine that Creation is a book. Like this book, for instance." He held up the book. "Each page is an entire universe, completely separate from all the others, but still in the same Creation. Time marches along, and the people live their lives without ever knowing about the other pages existing. Are you still following me?"

"I think I understand; you mean like alternate dimensions." Renfield nodded.

"Yes, you're on the right track. Now, there is a being that turns the pages, and keeps track of everything that goes on, on each page, simultaneously. This being can meddle with individual lives, he can change time, or anything else, almost like an author can." Seras scrunched her brow, trying to imagine it.

"You—you mean like God?" she finally asked, trying to picture it. Renfield shrugged.

"It goes by many names. God is only one of them. For now, let's just call It the Being, because that's what It is." Seras nodded and he smiled before thumbing through the pages once more. "This Being can be in all places at once in the story, but sometimes It wants to…nudge others along, if you will. Let's take Earth, since it's familiar to you."

"Alright," Seras said, trying to stay caught up in the conversation. All this metaphorical talk was beginning to bog her mind down.

"This Being wants to nudge humans in the right direction—say, a person should become a doctor. Perhaps someone on the train he takes to school has a heart attack, and a doctor saves her life and now the man is inspired. Or a teacher makes a comment that sticks in his mind. It can be a split-second contact, or an extended one. That's where I come in." Seras frowned.

"So you're an angel?" Renfield smirked.

"Not hardly."

"But angels are the ones that are supposed to help people! You're not a demon; you're not bad." Renfield thought about it a while before shrugging.

"If you want to stick me somewhere… I'm the gray area of the universe. I'm not _bad_, but I'm not necessarily _good_ either." Seras scowled.

"You can't be both! You have to be one or the other! If you're not an angel and you're not a demon, then what _are_ you?"

"If I were to tell you," he declared, "your mortal ears would not be able to comprehend it. The word I am is not a word used in earthly speech. Have you, by any chance, seen an American motion picture called Raiders of the Lost Ark?"

"Ye-es," Seras answered slowly, eyeing him strangely. What did that have to do with Renfield playing both the good and evil field in the universe?

"Have you, by any chance, seen the _end _of said motion picture? When they open the Ark, hmm?" Seras answered again with a nod, and he mimicked an explosion with his fingers. "That would be your ears. Hopefully not your entire face melting away, but that's a common occurrence when mortal flesh comes in contact with things beyond this plane. But, I feel as if I've gone off topic."

"What does any of this have to do with Alucard?" Seras finally asked. Renfield aahed and placed the book between them, lacing his fingers and crossing his legs. He held his knee in his hands and rocked back slightly on the bench, looking out at the quiet night. No one had bothered them yet, although the soldiers were eying the "cleaned" garden strangely for some reason.

"I'm getting to that. To make a long story shorter, I work as an intermediary of sorts. I'm quite adept at what I do, actually. I enjoy it immensely. Once I'll be a Vietnam soldier, and then a Regency executioner, and then perhaps a priest in a tiny monastery off the coast of Spain."

"It sounds hectic," Seras remarked casually. Renfield laughed.

"Perhaps," he admitted. "But it's so fun, living all those different lives. My personal favorite was when I stood at the steps of the guillotine and was speckled with the blood of Marie Antoinette. Morbidly fascinating…guillotines, I mean. Not Marie; she was a bore." He paused, thinking—about guillotines, or Marie?—before clearing his throat again.

"Anyway, so it came to pass that my next assignment _didn't _come from my boss, but from the Being Itself. I was naturally surprised, but when the head of Creation tells you to do something, you don't dare refuse. So my next assignment was… Alucard."

"Alucard." Renfield's brow knitted slightly over his lenses.

"Well, at that time he was still referred to as Vlad, or Count Dracula, etcetera etcetera. And my job was to keep him from taking over England with his bloodlust. His plan had been to take England by storm, or something, according to the Being anyway. So my job was to stop it from happening at all costs, by any means necessary."

"So that's why you did it?" Renfield sighed.

"Not exactly," he confessed. Seras frowned in confusion and he waved her unasked questions away. "My original plan had been simple—to stop him from taking over England, I'll stop him from getting to England. I tried to distract him—I had three women from different walks of life come to him for three different reasons."

"The three brides?" Seras asked. He nodded and the sadness entered his eyes again.

"I feel responsible for their deaths, first and foremost. They needn't have died; not when I could have tried other ways first. But van Helsing got them in the end, with blades through their hearts even as they pleaded for mercy. I can't blame the old bloke—he thought he was doing their immortal souls a favor. But it just caused them unneeded pain."

"So they weren't all there as his concubines, or daughters or whatever-the-hell they were?" Renfield shook his head.

"One was seeking political refuge. Another was staying at the castle while her mate was off on business to the East. The last was just a young girl of sixteen, who had fled her sire to seek shelter at the castle, under allegations of abuse."

"What else did you do?"

"He was dead-set on going to London. I made sure to make contact with him, in order to keep a better eye on him while under the guise of a humble lunatic. My diet is… unusual, to say the least, so it wasn't hard to appear mad to those poor, ignorant humans."

"So you _do _eat insects." Seras was surprised at this. She hadn't taken him for a bug-eater, even if he was a little strange.

"I eat what I can find," he replied smartly. "A human could set me up for a year, perhaps. But I hate taking human life like that—when there are animal lives instead. A bear, or a wildcat or a wolf. Bats are more portable, I suppose, and insects are the easiest to find, but if I lived on insects alone I'd have to eat constantly." He smiled at her. "It's their life essence I devour, not their bodies."

"Life essence? You mean blood?" He shook his head. "Their soul, then?"

"No! No, I'd never be able to do that," he laughed. "A soul's too intangible. Life essence is sort of like what you refer to as energy."

"Oh, okay. That makes sense, I guess. Insects wouldn't have as much harvestable energy as a bear, would they? They're too tiny."

"You're getting the point, at least. But, on with the story—I sent a storm to throw the ship he was taking off course. I couldn't bring myself to sink it; not with so many innocent lives on it. But he still managed to make it to England, and he managed to kill every last one of those poor men. And then he began to target those girls…."

"But why did you betray him, then?" Renfield shook his head again, staring at her intently.

"I did not betray him," he argued. "To betray him would mean that I planned it all! I didn't—my plans blew up in my face. Van Helsing chased him off of English soil and I just wanted to assure the man that Vlad would never return! But he took my facts and chased him back to Transylvania to try and kill him; nearly succeeded too."

"But he turned him into a servant instead." It wasn't a question, but her tone was hesitant.

"Van Helsing was a selfish, arrogant man. He _was_ kind and gentle, but he wasn't without faults. His ancestors sold their souls for that sort of occult power," Renfield proclaimed, his face grim. "He thought he could control Alucard and make him a pet, a weapon. But Alucard fought back and instead of simply containing him, van Helsing experimented on him. He all but tortured him."

"He turned him into something very powerful and dangerous," Seras added. Renfield nodded.

"Yes, he is very powerful and dangerous. He was before, but even more so now. But—I didn't have any way to help. I'd been given new orders by that point; stay out of the way and keep a tight watch on Alucard. My failure could have sealed my fate, but I was instead sent as a sort of watchdog for a vampire instead. So I've been biding my time in England since that fateful day, watching."

"You've seen everything? The London Blitz and all?"

"To be honest, I saw it from afar. I was keeping tabs, because Alucard had let loose his powers and if I had to step in to keep England safe, then so be it. I didn't know you were _his_, though. I knew you had come to Hellsing, but so many soldiers come and go, I just assumed you were another. And you weren't my focus anyway," he added offhandedly.

"One more question, for now?" Seras asked, not wanting to bother their guest by making him relive too many sad memories. Renfield nodded. "Did you ever warn Alucard, about what might happen?" The man's smile vanished and he rubbed his temples with a groan.

"So many times. I tried desperately to stop him back then, when he was chasing after that married woman out of spite. He'd already compromised himself with that Westenra girl, but he refused to listen. I warned him again during World War II about keeping his pride, but he just had to go and let the Nazis escape. _Then_ look what happened. They came back with a bloody airship that cost who knows how many lives?"

He groaned again. "He's been such a headache to me. But I do try to get along with him. I really do have his best interests at heart. I just wish he wasn't so damn caught up in himself."

"So do I," Seras agreed, standing. "Thank you, Renfield. There are still a lot of things I don't understand, but I know now why you feel guilty for what happened to him. And I understand why Alucard is so angry at you. But…it's still foggy for me in places."

"Of course it is," he replied, remaining seated as she began to walk away. "But one day you might know everything." Seras paused, and then looked over her shoulder at him.

"One more question," she half-demanded. He smiled obligingly. "Did he…did he love them?" She didn't have to explain; Renfield knew what she meant.

"My dear, I'm not entirely sure he's got it in him to love." Seras forced a smile and a nod and turned away, going back to her room to think. She suddenly felt like her mind was spinning too fast, and she wanted to just crawl into bed.

* * *

><p>She didn't crawl into bed, though. She sat at her small table, her head in her hands, and cried. She wasn't sure if she was crying for her Master, or Renfield, or herself. She just felt like it was something that needed to be done, so she didn't try to stem the flow that poured from behind her closed eyelids.<p>

She had no idea anyone was in the room with her until she heard her bedsprings creak. Sitting up and wiping her eyes, she turned her head to see Alucard sitting on the bed, which had finally replaced her coffin when she began drinking blood on a regular basis. She sniffed and rubbed her eyes again with the edge of her collar, trying to make sure there weren't any wet spots still on her face.

He was just _staring _at her, as unnerving as it was. He hadn't made any noise or sound to show his arrival, and so Seras had no idea how long he'd been sitting there. He wasn't dressed in his coat, hat, or sunglasses, which meant that he hadn't come to fetch her for a mission. Most likely, he'd heard her crying and had come up to see what was going on. She was sure he had inferred that she was crying about something that had to do with him, and she wondered what he thought about it. It was times like this she missed being able to glance inside his head.

He had his elbows on his knees and was hunched over, his eyes unwavering through a curtain of black bangs. She blinked back and sniffed again, hoping that snot wasn't running down her face. Turning around to sit sideways in her chair, she regarded him with a sense of mystery, intending to find out why he was there without giving away anything she'd talked about with Renfield. She wanted to ask more questions—she wanted to ask Alucard questions too, but she was certain she'd get more from Renfield in any case.

"What is it?" she asked, as if she hadn't been crying a few seconds ago. "Is something wrong?"

"What is the matter?" His voice was flat, without the usual suave infliction that he used. It made him sound very serious, and Seras was shocked that he was taking her tears so gravely, and that he didn't seem at all angry or malicious. She licked her lips, tasting salt.

"Nothing, I was just…"she paused. "I was just getting some emotion out." His brow knitted, and he waited for her to explain. However, she had no intention of doing so, just yet. "Alucard, if I asked you a question, would you promise to tell me the truth?" He sat silent for a long moment, looking more like a statue than a man.

"I will not tell you a lie," he finally answered. She stood up, walking to sit beside him on the bed. Her fingers went to his forehead, brushing his hair out of his eyes. He leaned away from her, his expression puzzled before settling in a more neutral frown. She stared up at him steadfastly, her mouth set in a grim line.

"Why did you ever come to England?"

* * *

><p><strong>Afterword:<strong>

Will Seras ever get the answers she seeks?  
>And what of those rabbits?<br>Will they last through the season, and not be eaten by a vengeful owl?  
>Should everyone forget about Season One of Parks and Recreation, and instead pretend that Season Two is Season One?<p>

The answers to these questions, and more, on our next action-packed episode of "All My Vampires".


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